


The Golden Pie of Discord

by InNeedOfInspiration



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Romanogers - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, capwidow - Fandom
Genre: F/M, This may make you hungry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:16:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5788354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InNeedOfInspiration/pseuds/InNeedOfInspiration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sweet little prompt I was given. Natasha bakes a killer apple pie and Steve has a hard time trying not to eat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golden Pie of Discord

**Author's Note:**

> A little something I wrote today. Hope you enjoy it. :)

It had all started randomly, really, the night before, as the two of them were lying in bed and having their usual small talks. Bedtime had become the occasion to spend some quality time alone and have the most random conversations. As shallow as these talks could seem to anyone, they forged the stable foundation of their relationship and made it why they knew each other so well. Every night they spent apart because of a mission was a night during which he missed their night talks the most.

'I don't think I've had a homemade apple pie since 1943,' he said nonchalantly until the reality of his statement had hit him one second later. He diverted his look from the ceiling and looked at her. 'I haven't eaten a proper apple pie since 1943,' he repeated, more to himself then to her.

It sunk in even harder.

'That is tragic,' Natasha remarked without an ounce of sarcasm. She then turned to lie on her side and looked straight into his eyes. She seemed to have an idea in mind, he reckoned. He knew that look too well.

'I'll make you one,' she offered with a sheepish smile.

He dove his look into hers with tenderness and love.

'Tomorrow.' She added as a final decision that should not be discussed any further.

'But I'll expect some kind of payment,' she dwelled on with a luring and suggestive smile.

He cracked a slightly shy smile. She smiled back but for a different reason. There was one thing that Natasha Romanoff enjoyed more than making her boyfriend happy and it was to make him uncomfortable.

'Deal,' he snorted, agreeing without any hesitation.

They spent the next morning in the kitchen. Steve seated himself on the high stool, propped his elbow on the counter and watched her continuously, unable to divert his eyes. Natasha turned out to be a meticulous and experienced person in the kitchen.

It all went well, really – amazingly well even, until the pie was put in the oven and the smell of the baking dough began to fill up the air.

Steve spent most of the baking time looking in the oven through the window, then pacing around the room only to go have a look again a few seconds later, the excitement rising at the same speed as the dough.

When Natasha took the pie out of the oven at long last Steve was leaning right behind, peeking at the masterpiece from above her shoulder.

She had barely put it on the counter that Steve came at it.

'No,' she spoke firmly. 'You don't eat nor touch a pie until it has completely cooled down. My rule.'

The words echoed like a sentence in his ear. _Completely_. It would be a matter of hours, excruciatingly long hours, and he knew he would not be able to resist the sight of this perfectly gold tinted pie eyeing him with lust, begging him to eat it.

Steve sat back on the stool in a strategic position to have the pie in his line of sight. The smell of the slightly cinnamon perfumed apples was intoxicating as it rubbed with depravity against his nostrils.

Natasha went on to clear the kitchen and had his back on him, his cue to initiate an approach. He sneaked his way toward the pie, throwing glances in his persecutor's direction to be sure the way was safe. He raised his arm and reached over to softly touch the pastry that had been put on provocative display for him.

His fingertips were only one inch apart from the pie when Natasha's figure stood firm and square before him, her shadow falling gloomily on the counter and his sinful hand.

'I-I didn't touch it,' he defended, standing back up.

She had one hand on her hip.

'Okay, that's it,' she said with a grave look. 'Leave this room. You can go and ogle my pie from behind the glass wall.'

Steve's mouth had open agape.

'You can't be serious?' Steve asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk as he looked closely at Natasha. No matter how hard he tried to look innocent and endearing, she remained impassive and adamant.

'I am very serious,' she assured although her posture and her gaze had already given out the answer. She pointed to the door. 'Clearly, you can't be trusted in a kitchen, Cap. Off you go,' she commanded with a mix of firmness and tenderness only she had the secret to combine at equal measures.

He reluctantly made his way toward the door, taking one last glimpse of the pie, inhaling deeply to carry the memory of its smell with him. Steve froze at door frame and looked at her defiantly.

'And what if I don't give you my payment, then?' he dared her.

Natasha lifted an eyebrow.

'Please,' she snorted. 'You'll be the one begging to accept your payment in two days!'

He hated to admit it but she couldn't be more right. He wouldn't say it out loud though.

Steve sighed and stepped outside. He went stand by the large glass walls to keep an eye on the pie which was tragically so close and yet so far.

Twenty minutes laboriously went by and Natasha still hadn't shown signs of faltering. His mouth was watering at the prospect of biting into the pie, no longer just for the gustative pleasure of it but also for the personal satisfaction of having overcome the long wait.

The door behind him opened and Tony stepped in, looking down at his latest smartphone invention. The perfume that was now saturating the air tickled his nostrils, making him take his nose off his work immediately.

He halted, sniffed a couple of times then his eyes widened.

'Apple pie!' he exclaimed in a rejoicing tone. He barely looked at Steve and followed the smell instead.

'J.A.R.V.I.S. How far away is it?' he asked.

'The target is 32 feet away, sir,' the A.I answered matter-of-factly.

'Keep it in visual, buddy,' he said as he started off toward the kitchen at jogging pace.

'29 feet…28 feet…26…,' JARVIS continued while Tony was getting dangerously close to the kitchen a large, content grin on his face, finding this whole countdown quite exhilarating. Steve felt this irrational rush of panic at the idea of Stark disfiguring the pie before his eyes.

'21…19…,' Natasha appeared suddenly at the door. She grabbed the doorknob and smirked.

'16…15…14,' J.A;R.V.I;S sped up as Stark ran faster. '12…10….' Natasha slammed the door right at his face. Stark's face showed immediate outrage and chagrin and pounded on the kitchen door.

'Agent Romanoff?' he called, turning the doorknob right and left.

'Still 10 feet away, sir' J.A.R.V.I.S stated.

'Argh, we know JARVIS. No need to rub it in,' Tony grumbled then resumed to knock on the door.

'As you wish, sir.'

'There's no point in trying,' Steve spoke with a mix of sympathy and some certain smugness in seeing Stark getting the same treatment. 'She won't let you in.'

'Romanoff. Nobody ever taught you in Russia that it was rude not to share?' he said as he stood in front of the glass, right beside Steve.

Natasha walked past the glass wall with an unhidden satisfaction.

'Sure Stark, keep on trying to offend me. Way to get a bite of it,' she commented with a smile then walked back behind the counter. She held the pie up between her hands and lifted a bit higher than it was necessary to literally boast on having in her possession something Tony could only admire from behind an unbreakable two-thumb-thick glass.

It had the exact effect she hoped for: Tony's face twisted in agony.

'Do something!' he said, turning to Steve. 'She's your girlfriend and you're the team leader, here. Give her the order to stand down and hand the pie in, I don't know, just be creative.'

Steve folded his arms over his chest. 'We're not on a mission.'

'Well, she's clearly at war and throwing the hostilities!' he whined back.

Steve sighed loudly then motioned toward the couch. He sat down, propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his closed fists. It was his position whenever he was waiting out on the field.

Another forty minutes went by slowly, here and then interrupted by Tony's lamentations, which somehow took the excruciating wait up to a whole new level.

'This is just cruel,' Stark moaned as he pressed his palms against the glass to add to the dramatic effect. 'Am I crying?' he mused out loud. 'Cause I could swear I can feel a tear rolling down my cheek right now.'

'The infrared camera analysis shows no trace of lachrymal residuals on your face, sir,' J.A.R.V.I.S spoke in.

Steve rose the corner of his mouth into an amused smile.

'Thanks J.A.R.V.I.S,' Stark answered bitterly. 'Remind me to update your sarcasm sensitivity later.'

'I guess it could be worse,' Steve commented.

'Have you even tried?' Stark spat with a blaming tone. Natasha was innocently wandering around in the kitchen. 'Have you tried to bribe her?'

'Bribe her with what?' Steve asked.

Tony took on a nonchalant tone, shrugging. 'You know, promise her some special favours.' He purred the last words suggestively.

A long, telling silence followed.

'I'm not going there with you,' Steve finally said.

'Harumpf! You tried already!,' Tony commented with a grunt. 'And it didn't work. Clearly, you've got some improvements to make in that field.'

Steve rose to his feet. 'You know what, Stark?' he started with a hard look. Tony looked at him with an unimpressed pout.

'Tasha baked a pie?' Clint exclaimed as he rushed into the room, unknowingly putting an end to the argument that was about to start. He looked at his two teammates standing outside the kitchen and paused. 'Oh, got it. She kicked you out and locked the door…again.'

He slumped onto the couch and crossed one leg over his knee.

'The best advice I can give you is not let the greed go to your heads. It can reach psychosis. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about.'

Clint's straight face implied he had actually experienced this situation. To a certain extent – cause it had to be to a certain extent only, right?

Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen door finally opened. The three men slouched on the sofa sat upright and looked with curiosity as Natasha stepped out carrying the glorious pie on a plate. They stood up fast and walked up to her. The pie looked even more beautiful up close than from the distance. It looked even more beautiful now that it was soon going to be down their stomachs.

'The pie is ready,' Natasha purred with obvious satisfaction and pride. It had been cut in equal slices.

'Well, it was about damn t-,' Tony cut himself short when Natasha's straight look fell onto him and he realized how reckless (and fairly idiotic) it would be to jeopardize his getting a slice. 'I mean, thanks for trying to be as fast as possible.'

Natasha smiled contently and raised the pie under the three impatient noses.

Steve took the time to look at it one last time before jumping in for the first slice. But it was already too long of a time, Tony had already beaten him to it and was reaching for a slice. In a swift motion, Natasha grasped his hand and twisted it backwards, making him squeal loudly, meanwhile her other hand kept a steady hold of the plate.

Clint and Steve both watched in surprise.

'This is Steve's pie,' she spoke with a calm but sharp voice. 'He goes first.'

Tony complied, mostly because he didn't have the physical possibility to protest.

She looked down at him and sightly squeezed his wrist, making him twitch again. 'And _this_ is for daring to doubt the Captain's…abilities,' she said with an amicable (and not yet threatening)smile.

Stark accepted his punishment for crossing the line and internally swore against her acute hearing. She released his hand and watched from the corner of her eye as he discreetly massaged his wrist, she then turned to Steve with an earnest and loving smile that broke character with the persona she had before.

She held the pie toward him and invited him to take a slice. He never found her more attractive than at this exact minute – how strange as it may sound – enough to make him forget about the pie he had been craving for the three hours. He smiled back at her and she winked as she seemed to be reading all of his lustful thoughts like an open book.

Clint and Tony were staring at him expectantly, silently urging him to take the first slice so they could get down to business, as well; or so he would have noticed if he had bothered to look in their direction.

 


End file.
